In My Old Age There

He Would Give All Of His Clothes To His Servant, Admonishing Him Not To Return Them Until He Had Completed His Day's Work.

It Is Those Books Which A Man Possesses But Does Not Read Which Constitute The Most Suspicious Evidence Against Him.

Every Blade Has Two Edges; He Who Wounds With One Wounds Himself With The Other.

Marius Was Of The Temperament That Sinks Into Grief And Remains There; Cosette Was Of The Sort That Plunges In And Comes Out Again.

Let Us Say It Now: To Be Blind And To Be Loved, Is Indeed, Upon This Earth Where Nothing Is Complete, One Of The Most Strangely Exquisite Forms Of Happiness.